


Long Cool Woman

by CR Noble (erudite12)



Series: I Fought the Law [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Detective!AU, F/M, Hunter!Reader, detective!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 16:16:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16579886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erudite12/pseuds/CR%20Noble
Summary: Y/N has to finish what she started, but she can’t seem to get away from Detective Smith, no matter what she does





	Long Cool Woman

**Author's Note:**

> I know it has been like a year since I posted a new chapter for this series, but I am determined to finish it before the end of this year. It will be my first completed series. Even if no one actually reads it anymore, its important to me to have something that I have actually completed. So thank you if you’re still following this!

  


 

Dean made his way through a sea of congratulatory detectives, who couldn’t wait to pat him on the back for the career-making arrest of a fugitive like Y/N Winchester. With smiles and handshakes, he still couldn’t shake the gut feeling that he was making a mistake. The only person who would understand was Cas, and he was nowhere to be found. Dean knew he probably ducked out early, but it still would have been nice to talk to him.

Dean thought back to the night he met you as he sat down at his desk to finish the mountain of arrest paperwork. He mentally went back through everything he knew about you, and tried to find something that he could connect to the kind of person who would commit murders as heinous as the ones you were accused of. He was generally a pretty good judge of character, and he’d talked to you for hours before leaving that bar. The more he thought about it, the greater his apprehension grew.

The office slowly emptied until Dean was the only person there. He had finished his paperwork, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Instead, he found himself looking into disappearances in Midland. The four most recent deaths were chalked up to animal attacks, but you went to that house for a reason, and his instincts told him that something about those cases wasn’t right. Hell, it was that instinct which had led him to you in the first place. He dug into research about the deaths, knowing that it was probably going to be a long night.

* * *

 

Your temper cooled during the long drive back to Midland, and you felt guilty about banishing Gabriel. You pushed all thoughts of the blond angel to the back of your mind, and tried to focus on the task at hand. It would still be at least an hour before you arrived at the farmhouse.You pressed the gas pedal down a little harder, and hoped you made it there before anyone else died.

* * *

“Detective Smith?” A female voice said.

Dean’s head jerked up off of his desk. When had he fallen asleep?

“Detective Smith,” the voice repeated.

“Yeah, what?” Dean yawned at the uniformed woman. He rubbed his eyes and looked at her. “What’s going on?”

“She’s gone, sir.”

Dean was up and out of his chair before another word could be said. He didn’t need to hear the name to know who the officer had been talking about. He ran out of the building to his car, hopped in, and started the engine. He had a pretty good idea of where you were going.

He floored it, heading straight toward Midland.

Dean was driving so fast he almost missed the cherry red of your car parked on the side of the dark road. He pulled over and parked his own car in front of yours. He stepped out of the Impala with his gun and flashlight already in his hands.

A quick once-over with the flashlight showed him you weren’t there. He looked around and sighed.

Dean knew he should have called for backup, but he didn’t. He didn’t bother trying to justify it to himself. He knew he didn’t want anyone else to find you. Whatever you were doing here, he had to know for himself. There was no way he could believe you were just a cold-blooded murderer. So, he raised his weapon and headed in the direction of the farmhouse.

* * *

You were at the front door of the farmhouse for the second time in two days. You took a deep breath and reached for the knob. It turned, unlocked this time, and you willed the hinges to be silent as you pushed the door open and made your way slowly inside.

The house was quiet, but not with the same eerie silence that had permeated the place before. Your instincts told you your targets were there, and you were not walking into a trap this time. Your gun in hand, you used the wall to guide and hide you as you crept further into the house, keeping your eyes open for any signs of movement in the dim light.

You stopped and slowly opened every door as you moved silently through the hallway, but each had been empty. You cleared the entire first floor before moving toward the stairs. There was light washing over the bannister at the top and a soft voice carried down. Were they all upstairs?

You gingerly placed a foot on the first step and slowly shifted your weight onto it. The step remained silent, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You worked your way up the stairs as slowly as you could stand to. You didn’t want to alert the homeowners of your presence. There were more of them than you, and you weren’t sure you could handle them all at once after the week you had.

You were so focused on making it up those stairs that you didn’t notice the gun was forced out of your hand and you felt cold metal on your wrist.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath. “Dean, this is really not the time.”

“Well then, maybe you should have stayed in your cell,” Dean whispered as he pulled your other arm back and closed the second cuff around the wrist. He turned you to face him. “Why the hell did you come back here?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” you hissed. You stared into his green eyes, and in that moment, you made your decision. “You want to know why I do what I do?”

Dean hadn’t expected that and was startled. You didn’t wait for him to answer the question.

“I am a hunter. I kill monsters. Those guys in there? They are werewolves, and they are the ones that having been ripping hearts out of the chests of the residents of this little shit hole. I came back because if I don’t kill them, more people… innocent people… will die. So, take these cuffs off of me and give me my damn gun, Dean.”

You searched his face with your eyes for something, anything to indicate what he was feeling about your revelation, but there was nothing there. His eyes hardened, and he shook his head.

“Still playing games, Y/N,” Dean sighed. He turned you back around and started walking you toward the stairs. “I am taking you ba…”

“Hey, who the hell’re you?” A man’s voice said from down the hall.

Your blood ran cold as Dean turned to face him. This was it. The end. And all because Detective Smith was like a dog with a bone.

“Kansas State Police, sir,” Dean said, “I was just following this young l—”

“You’re that hunter that was talking to Steve.” The man eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you. He called out to his brothers.

“Dean, please, you have to get these off me.”

Dean could tell something wasn’t quite right, but he still refused to remove the cuffs. It was only a moment before three other men appeared in the hall. The tallest one looked at the others and laughed.

“Looks like we will be eating well tonight, boys!” He pushed past his brothers and started down the hall toward you.

Dean pulled his sidearm and pointed it at the man.

“Stop! I will shoot you.”

The man didn’t stop. He kept coming toward you.

Dean give a second warning, he fired twice into the man’s chest.

The werewolf stumbled back at the impact of the bullets, but then he grinned savagely and kept coming.

“What the fuck?” Dean asked. He fired again, and again, emptying his magazine into the man quickly. “What the hell are you?”

“Dean! Run!” you shouted as you pushed past him and made your way down the stairs as fast as you could with your arms cuffed behind you. You didn’t look back to see if he followed, but you heard his heavy feet behind you. The wolves weren’t far behind, but you had to at least try and put some distance between you. “Use my gun, Dean.”

“What the hell difference does it make, Y/N? I shot that bastard fifteen times!”

“Silver bullets!” You stopped running and turned on Dean. The look he wore made you wish your hands were free so you could punch him in the mouth. “God damn it, Dean! Just trust me for one fucking second! If you don’t listen to me, we’re both going to die here!”

The thundering footfalls behind him didn’t give Dean the time to think about it. He grabbed the .45 he had tucked into his waistband and turned to face your attackers. He almost froze when he saw them.

They were close now, and he could see their faces. Their eyes were yellow and predatory, and they had long, inhuman teeth he knew could rip the heart from his chest. If they didn’t dig it out with the claws that extended toward him from their fingers. He raised the gun and squeezed off a round and then another. He kept firing until all four attackers were down. When it was over, Dean turned to look at you. His face was twisted with fear and confusion.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he asked, breathlessly. “What the fuck just happened? Why are they… What is…” Dean couldn’t keep his thoughts together. He fumbled for the key to unlock your handcuffs. “Werewolves?” he asked finally.

You turned around and looked at him, rubbing sensation back into your wrists and hands. You didn’t know what the hell was wrong with, but all you could think about was how gorgeous he was in that moment. Disheveled and wild-eyed, he stared back at you. Before you had the chance to think it through, you stepped toward him and pressed your lips hard against his.


End file.
